Stargazing
by BrazilianMafioso
Summary: America has been overworked lately. Wanting to get away from it all, he goes to the local park to relax. Little does he know, a single wish from a shooting star is going to change his life drastically. Rating may go up, but no higher than a T. RusAme
1. Sky

**Stargazing**

** Chapter 1: Sky**

Staring at the sky above him, he raised his hand up, comparing the size. Apparently, the sky was a whole lot larger.

The bleak, unchanging, city-night sky.

Alfred lay on the ground contemplating his life. He had wheat-blonde hair. Check. His bomber jacket was undeniably cool. Check. His stunning looks were fantastic. Check. Arthur made disgusting food. Check. He was the personification of the United States of America. … Check.

Damn it.

Check.

Checks.

Checkbooks.

Checking accounts.

Check.

Check!

CHECK!

"Damn it all!" Holding his head, Alfred squirmed in discomfort and pain.

He hated, no, _loathed_, the word.

He had had enough work already, but with the economy like it was, his joints were always aching, his head was always pounding, his heart was always burning, and he was always so DAMN **TIRED**. All because of those stupid checks! He had to write at least five hundred of them per day. Plus, he had all the other garbage his boss wanted him to do for work. And then there were the other nations who asked him things left and right.

And people blamed him? Everyone else was at fault just as much as he was!

Country or not, he could not handle this. The constant meetings. The constant workload. The constant interviews. Constant life! It all just stabbed holes into him and poured acid in. He just wanted to forget it all.

Or get a vacation.

Ah, a vacation. He could sure use one of those.

He gazed back up at the sky. Tonight was unusually special. Some of the stars could actually be seen beyond the blinding lights of the city. Of course, he could always go out to the country where he could see every star that could possibly be seen, but with all the work he had, the most time he could afford away from his home was an hour or two at the local park.

And it was his only relaxation time, so he tried to make the most of it.

Being so deep in thought, he almost did not notice the light streaking across the sky.

It was like a beacon that immediately alerted him, and he instantly located the source.

Looking up, his eyes radiant with pure awe, he stared at the shooting star. It looked so beautiful, like everything you would expect from all the stories, bright enough to show through even the effects of the city, yet look soft enough to touch.

It began to fade.

A wish!

He had to make a wish!

"Ah, um, I…" he said quickly, looking around, as if looking for something to give him a hint as to what to say. "Ah, I…"

He suddenly felt fatigue catch up with him, and he remembered why he was there. He smiled up at the heavens.

"I wish I could just forget it all."

The shooting star seemed to shine a bit brighter, and then disappeared completely.

-o~O~o-

As Alfred crawled into bed, he knew he would be chastised within the next two days. He was going to miss work, but you know what he could tell them? He forgot. He just forgot. The way he thought about it, if that wishing stuff actually worked, all records in his home would be wiped of the meeting for the following day.

Arthur would not be able to scold him because it would be official: America had not been told about the meeting at all.

The perfect getaway.

He wished he could have asked for an all-expense paid vacation, too. To the Bahamas.

Yeah, that would have been nice, he thought, drifting off to sleep.

* * *

What people don't know is, just as nations have personifications, so do other things in the universe, stars being one of them.

Specifically, shooting stars. Scientifically speaking, shooting stars are like comets, not stars at all. Just a rock flying so fast that it looks luminous enough to be one.

"Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear…"

A small girl flipped through the pages of a notebook, her short white hair billowing softly. She winced as a pebble hit her.

"Ow!" She stood up angrily. "Now, who did that!"

A boy farther away laughed. "Hahaha! The little wannabe got hurt!"

Another girl laughed with him. "Stop that!" she said mockingly. "Miss Incompetency will not be able to get away from work again!"

The small girl fumed back at them. "Rigel and Capella! Stop being so mean! I am not a wannabe!"

The boy raised an eyebrow. "I see, and I guess you can make my wish come true, then?"

She frowned a bit. "It depends…"

"Then I wish you would disappear!" the boy exclaimed, smirking.

She could have cried. Why were the stars always so mean to her?

"Oh? She's not disappearing! She really must be useless!" the older girl said.

A determined look on her face, the little girl angrily and rapidly went through her notebook. She would show them. She would show them how great she could be. She needed one wish she could fulfill in one night. Just one…

She stopped at a page with a single sentence.

In contrast to other pages with entire essays.

_"I wish I could just forget it all."_

Alfred F. Jones… She read his profile a little bit.

_Oh! He's a personification, too!_

America, yes? An interesting prospect. She read on more and nodded to herself.

Yes, he deserved the wish.

She stood up, closed her eyes, and breathed deeply.

She located the American on Earth and found him sound asleep in his bed.

Almost immediately, her spirit found itself next to him. She spun around, taking in the surroundings. This boy had a really messy room, but it made her happy. It was different than the cold loneliness of space. She touched his head gently.

Done.

She opened her eyes and found herself back on her desolate rock. Smiling softly, she hugged herself. She had done it. She wasn't useless.

By tomorrow morning, Alfred F. Jones, the personification of the United States of America, would remember absolutely nothing.

Nothing at all.

* * *

**This idea has been in my head for a while now, but I only came up with the actual storyline a few days ago. **

**Little unnamed-for-now girl is just a plot device. **

**Rigel is the seventh brightest star in the sky and is a blue giant, and Capella is a giant yellow star, like our own sun, but larger. Little shooting star girl is not extremely bright, in terms of luminosity.**

**I'm a nerd, so shut up ^u^**

**And little unnamed-for-now girl will remain unnamed until farther on in the story. **

**Okay, I'll shut up now :D**


	2. Tears

**¡Hola! You don't know how happy I am when people read my stories, so I thank you if you still find this worthy. ;u; And you might have noticed I changed my penname… Nothing big. I just… kind of have a stalker I don't want finding me if they search my old penname ^^; I'd like to thank TheEvilMuffinToaster for thinking of this new name. :D**

**I own nothing except for this potted plant that is currently watching me write. *stares at the plant suspiciously***

**P.S. In the British dialect, "All right?" basically means "Hello, how are you?" **

* * *

**Stargazing  
Chapter 2: Tears**

Arthur woke up the next morning, feeling as if something was amiss. He patted his bed. Yes, still the same sheets, same mattress, same bed in general. He stared at the ceiling. Same ceiling. He scanned the room. Everything was the same and in the same place it had always been. But something, _something_, bothered him. Something was missing. _Something _wasn't the _same_. Cautiously, he lifted the covers and put his feet on the floor. He had to find out what the problem was before the meeting, before his chance faded. The second his feet landed, though, he realised what was wrong. It was as if some cosmic force was able to inform him of the situation.

He had forgotten to put on socks last night.

Quickly fetching a pair from the drawer next to him, he slipped them on and started towards the kitchen. Lazily, he began boiling some water for tea. He would need it for the long day ahead. And a somewhat large breakfast as well. He most likely would not have time to eat later.

As the water boiled, he decided to procure the newspaper from his front stoop. After acquiring the paper and his tea, Arthur sat down at the small round table.

A shrill ringing sounded throughout the house. Arthur sighed and set down his teacup. Who would possibly interrupt him at this hour? With a brisk pace, he made his way over to the phone.

"Hello, this is the Kirkland residence. To whom am I speaking?"

"_H-Hello, Arthur. Um, it's me, Matthew. I was just wondering…_," a quiet voice said.

Arthur paused. Matthew… Matthew… Matthew… He didn't know any 'Matthews.'

"_…the meeting tomorrow and…_," the voice continued.

Searching mental data bank… Searching mental data bank…

"_…have information on some important documents…_"

Your search – **Matthew** – did not match any documents.

Suggestions:

Make sure all words are spelled correctly.

Try different keywords.

Try more general keywords.

"_…And I was hoping that you possibly-_"

"Excuse me for interrupting, lad, but could you possibly tell me who you are?"

There was a pause on the other side of the phone, and for a moment, Arthur believed the boy had hung up.

"_I'm Canada_."

"…"

"_CA-NA-DA. I'M AMERICA'S BROTHER_."

Arthur blinked. "Ah, yes, quite right. Now, what is it you need, er, Ca-na-da?" He could hear an exasperated sigh, yet he couldn't place what it was for.

"_I suppose you weren't listening… In short, has Alfred called you at all recently?_"

Arthur thought for a bit, trying to recall anything.

"No, not that I know of."

"_This is bad, this is very bad. He hasn't been seen for the past week_," he heard the Canadian say with a frightened tone.

Now that he mentioned it, Arthur realised that Alfred had not been at any of the preliminary meetings that had started a few days ago. Wait, they started _exactly_ a week ago. Could Alfred be avoiding work?

Well, honestly speaking, most countries didn't attend the introductory meetings; they were mostly summaries on the topics that would be covered. _And God forbid someone should _actually _be prepared for the following meetings_.

He wasn't that worried that Alfred hadn't gone. …Though, he usually did attend the first meetings…

"Yes, well, I really must be going. I have many important… matters to attend to."

Arthur could almost see Matthew nodding his head rapidly. "_Ah, of course. I'm sorry I b-bothered you!_"

"Don't worry, I'm sure the git's fine," he added as a last thought.

"_Um, thank you, Arthur. I guess you're right. Have a nice day._"

There was a click, and then there was silence.

"Such a good boy. … Whoever he is, anyway."

He returned to his now-cold tea and ruffled newspaper.

* * *

After hanging up the phone, Matthew sighed once again. He'd known Arthur for how many years, now?

Now, something Alfred had overlooked when he had concocted his master plan was the presence of his twin brother. Of course, many people always overlooked him, but Matthew was the one chink in his "perfectly" formulated plan. For, you see, Alfred had asked Matthew to pick him up for the main meetings following the opening meetings.

Time restraints can make it difficult for people, specifically Alfred, to think of such small details.

He picked up the phone again and dialed his brother's number.

After pressing the receiver to his ear, it seemed almost as if the answering machine was going to pick up, yet just before…

"…"

Silence.

No hello or anything.

Maybe Alfred really was there, and he was just playing a joke. _Yeah, haha, super funny_, he thought, sarcastically. He was about to hang up when he heard a crashing sound come from the phone.

"Alfred? Alfred? Are you there? Are you okay?" he blurted out rapidly.

A few seconds passed.

"_H-H-Hello?_"

It was a quiet voice, definitely not Alfred's. Maybe a housekeeper?

"Yes, hello, this is Matthew Williams. I would like to speak to Alfred F. Jones. Is he available?"

"_A-Ah… I-I'm not sure who you're talking about…_" the voice said after a pause.

Matthew coughed. Was it just him, or did this person sound a _bit_ like Alfred?

"Alfred, if that's you, this joke isn't funny."

"_Sorry about this, b-but who are you, again?_"

This person. This person on the other side of the phone was most likely, most certainly, most _undeniably_ his brother. Believe it or not, no one said "who are you" quite like he did. And for once, he was happier than anything to hear those words. Though, he was also annoyed as anything about being the victim of Alfred's practical joke.

"It's Matthew-"

Alfred screamed loudly. "_Ack! H-Hey! Stop it!_" There was another crash.

The phone beeped and then went silent.

Now, Matthew was worried again. Forgetting Alfred's earlier joke, what if someone had actually broken into his house?

That was it.

He was on a plane to America twenty minutes later.

* * *

That morning, the boy had woken up, unaware of where he was. He quickly searched his memory, but found…

He had none.

He didn't remember his name. He didn't know where he was. He didn't even know why everything was so blurry.

Tears began to well up in his eyes. He was… He didn't know the feeling or word to describe it. All he knew was that he suddenly felt like the only person on the planet waking up to find that everyone else has died.

He had sat like that. Entirely still, for an entire week. Not moving. His throat felt very dry, but he didn't know why. Almost as if he would die. Maybe he was thirsty? Hungry, too. His stomach growled almost every five minutes. But… he couldn't move. He wanted to die. He didn't want to be all alone.

He covered himself up with the blanket, possibly attempting to hide from something that might attack him.

The attack came two minutes later.

A loud ringing sound shocked the boy, and he unwittingly jumped off of the bed, hitting the side table on his way down and knocking over the ringing object. Part of it hung down from the cord attaching it to a box.

For a second, he rejoiced as the sound ceased, but was immediately frightened again when he heard a voice coming from the item hanging down.

"_Alfred? Alfred? Are you there? Are you okay?_"

There was something weird about the voice… He cautiously picked up the thing and put his ear to where he had heard the voice come from.

"H-Hello?"

Was he talking to an object?

"_Yes, hello, this is Matthew Williams. I would like to speak to Alfred F. Jones. Is he available?_"

Oh yes, he was talking to an object. Nothing strange about that.

Alfred F. Jones? He thought for a bit. Nothing rang a bell.

"A-Ah… I-I'm not sure who you're talking about…" he said with uncertainty. Wait, why was he not sure about stating whether or not he knew this man?

"_Alfred, if that's you, this joke isn't funny._"

A… joke? Why would he play a joke on a person he had never even met…?

"Sorry about this, b-but who are you, again?" He couldn't help but want to know the name of the object he was speaking to. Especially when he had never actually spoken to one before.

"_It's Matthew-_"

Out of the corner of his eye, he could make out the strange silhouette of something walking across the room. He shut his eyes tightly.

_Please don't let it be something scary. Please don't let it be something scary. _

He slowly cracked one eye open and glanced at the area he had seen the strange shape. Oh… There was nothing there… Maybe it could have been the wind?

Failing to remember that the wind does not usually enter house, he returned to his interesting conversation with the object named "Matthew." However, the second he turned around, he came face-to-face with a grey skinned creature with large red eyes. He screamed.

"Ack!" He tripped and fell to the ground from the shock. "H-Hey!" He tried to yell at the creature, but it just kept stepping forward. And now it was reaching its hand out! "Stop it!" he frantically cried.

The creature kept coming closer. _Sorry, talking non-alive object. But this is for the good of the last humans on Earth._ He forcefully pulled the item off the cord it was attached, snapping the springy material in half and leaving some wires exposed.

"G-G-Get away! I-I'll hurt you if you don't!"

The creature stopped and stared at him like he was crazy.

"Y-Yeah! That's right! Stand in shock as I, um…" He lowered the article, trying to think of something to add. A light bulb lit up in his mind. That was it! "Stand in shock as I now make my amazing escape!"

He ran around the creature, out the door, and towards the kitchen.

Tony stared in the direction Alfred ran off. He sure was acting strange today…

* * *

Three hours passed passed (though, Alfred did not know that because he had also forgotten how to read clocks), and already, he had set up his own personal civilization out of chairs, the table, and a bunch of pillows. He had desperately searched for anything to aid him in his defense against the monster, but this was all he could come up with. Although, he did find a mysterious device that would give him fresh food and drinks when he opened it. (Albeit, it scared him a little as well because it began making loud rumbling noises when he closed it. But when he would open it after that, there would always be little blocks of frozen water!)

He had brought the talking object with him. After trying to speak to it, he found it no longer made any sound. He… He hadn't killed it… Had he? N-No… It was probably just sleeping… Right? He hugged the item to his chest.

Two minutes later, he was sobbing.

* * *

Matthew stopped in front of the large house. The gate was left open, one or two lights were on, and a window was ajar.

Suspicious.

Very suspicious.

He marched past the gate and to the front door and then rang the doorbell.

No one answered.

"Alfred! Get out here right now!"

Still, no one answered.

He sighed and tried moving the doorknob. To his surprise, it opened. Good, he would not need to damage his new dress shoes today.

Wait, why was the door unlocked?

. . .

Oh no.

Ohnononono.

He threw the door open and scanned the room. It was a mess: the couch was turned over, the table was broken, and there were several items strewn across the floor. Not good. He quickly ambled throughout the house in search of his brother.

Every room he searched looked as if it had been turned inside out. Alfred's bedroom was the worst. Nothing was left in place, and even the phone was missing, looking as if someone had pulled it off.

Had Alfred been kidnapped?

He shook his head. No, he couldn't think like that.

Then, he remembered: the kitchen. He hadn't checked the kitchen yet.

Running as fast as he could, he dashed for the last room.

The first thing he saw was pillows. Stacked up everywhere. There were blankets tied to chairs. The sink was running so much it was overflowing. Every cabinet was left open, the contents of each scattered across the ground. And in the middle of everything…

Knelt Alfred.

Though, he was not facing Matthew. His back to him, Alfred was poking his head above one stack of pillows, obviously watching for something.

Unimaginable anger surged through him.

"Alfred!"

The American visibly flinched and started turning around slowly, shaking the entire time.

"W-W-Who's t-there?"

"It's Canada."

He blinked. "Canada? What's that?" He put his hand under his chin as he thought about it. "Oh boy! Does this mean I'm not the last human on this desolate planet?" He smiled brightly.

Matthew put his hand to his face. "Look, Al, we don't have time for this kind of nonsense. I've been worried sick about you for the past seven days, and you've been sitting here, playing soldier? The first official meeting is tomorrow. We have to go. At this rate, we're going to have to get there and go straight to the meeting!"

Alfred's smile faded. "I-I don't know what y-you're talking about! W-Who are you?"

Glaring, Matthew began striding towards Alfred. "I am CA-NA-DA. MATTHEW! YOUR BROTHER!"

He froze. "B-Brother" His look of surprise transformed into anger a second later when he charged at the Canadian. "That's a lie! You're working with the creature, aren't you!"

Creature?

Matthew tried to figure things out, but suddenly realised Alfred attacking him at full force. So that's how he was going to play?

As Alfred neared, Matthew clenched his fist and swiftly positioned it to punch his brother in the abdomen.

The older coughed a bit, spitting out saliva, his eyes wide with astonishment. Finally, his arms fell limp, and he slumped over, his head resting on Matthew's shoulders.

"Stupid idiotic brother… Look what you made me do… I didn't think you hated work _that_ much…" Matthew said quietly.

He brought his unconscious brother to his room, got him dressed in his suit and favorite bomber jacket, packed some other clothes, and then promptly left.

When they had eventually gotten on the plane, Matthew glimpsed at Alfred's face and noticed his eyes were extremely red. As if he had been crying without stop for a long while.

* * *

England was glad the meeting was being held in Italy. Despite what the others thought, he quite liked Italian food. It reminded him of the Renaissance. Its exquisite taste and herbs and texture and- ohgoditwasFrance.

Entering into the room with a casual gait, France sauntered over to England.

"Angleterre~!"

_Don't sit next to me. Don't sit next to me. Don't sit next to-_

He sat down on the chair to the direct left of England.

_…me._

Damn it.

"Angleterre, did you not hear the sultry sound of my voice as I called your name?" the Frenchman asked, slowly leaning towards England.

"YesIsuppose," he hastily replied, holding out his hand to keep the other man at a distance of at least a foot.

The other shook his head disappointedly. "You know, if you persist in acting this way, 'gentleman' or not, you will never find a woman. Perhaps someone such as Amérique would find this arousing, but if you are trying to attract me with this performance…" He took Arthur's chin with his hand and tilted it his face up, gazing at him with half-lidded eyes. "You are accomplishing this splendidly."

Cheeks becoming bright red, England pushed him away with as much force as he could muster and turned away, crossing his arms. "Sod off you bloody Frog."

"You two are having fun, da?"

The two froze and turned to the tall Russian smiling down at them.

"All right, R-Russia?" England asked, being the first to recover.

"Very good, thank you. I was just curious as to whether you have heard from Amerika as of late. We were supposed to have a meeting on Friday, yet he never showed up."

America… never showed up?

Beginning to worry, England wondered if Canada had been right.

"Ve~ Everyone!"

The small various conversations ceased and everybody looked to Italy at the front of the room.

"I think the meeting should start now! It's, um, ten o' clock."

The sound of scraping chairs could be heard as everyone took their seats.

Russia nodded to the two European nations he had been speaking with and sat walked around to the opposite side of the table where he usually sat.

England nodded back, and France gulped.

"Okay~ So I think we should start with some…" Italy looked down, trying to think of something. "Ah, Germany…"

Germany sighed and got up from his chair. He marched to the front of the room, much to Italy's relief. The Italian stepped away and smiled happily that he wouldn't be the center of everyone's attention like this.

"Now, the first order of business is to discuss the current state of affairs in various countries," Germany declared, slamming his hands on the table. "However, I would first like to be informed of why America is not here, presently."

Presently?

Russia looked around. Oh yes, it was true. Amerika was not there. Strange, the American never missed a chance to describe his ridiculous plans.

There were some whispers, most ending with, "I haven't seen or heard from him all week."

Suddenly, the doors slammed open.

It was immediately silent as everyone looked at the hyperventilating Canadian standing there.

"I am extremely s-sorry that I am late!"

. . .

Oh… Okay.

"I am extremely sorry, but…"

England quickly realised the anxious look in his eyes.

"Lad, what's wrong?" he asked, standing up and walking towards him.

"I-It's…" He traipsed hurriedly towards Arthur. Holding America by the hand.

He shoved the boy into his face.

"D-Do you remember him?"

England blinked. "Remember him? Why, I've known this git for over two hundred years. It's not as if I could forget."

Canada shook his head. "Not you…" He pointed at America. "Him."

It was actually a bit funny to England. America? Not remember him? "Now, Canada, while I know you might want to protect your brother, the fact of the matter is, he was late, and distracting us from that cannot change-"

"I-Is this some kind of j-joke? I don't know him."

Everything was still, save for the soft sound of Greece's snoring.

"America, come off it. The meeting already started. We need to get back." England was annoyed. He would have expected this from America, but Canada was playing along. A doubly annoyed England was an angry and dangerous England. And an angry and dangerous England was an England one does not wish to deal with.

"N-No… Seriously, I don't know who you are…"

"Git! There is no time for this! Sit down so we can start! Just because you are a stupid and foolish boy who doesn't want to work does not mean you can just parade in here and pretend this is all a game!"

"Angleterre-"

England slapped France's hand away. "What? What is it?"

France shivered and pointed to America. "I… I do not believe this is a joke."

Breathing heavily from his outburst, England turned around to glare at the boy.

And then his heart fell.

America was shivering. His eyes were wide and filled to the brim with tears, many of which were falling freely down his flushed cheeks. He looked terrified.

It… It couldn't be true, could it? That America… that America didn't remember him?

He took a step towards him and reached his hand out. "America…"

The boy collapsed to his knees and began sobbing without reserve. "S-Stop it! I-I don't know any of you!"

England stopped, looking down at America with wide eyes. No… it couldn't be…

America continued to sob.

He silently wished Matthew was still alive.

He silently wished he was still under his blanket.

He silently wished he remembered who he was.

All he knew was that he suddenly felt like the only person on the planet waking up to find that everyone else has died. And become horrible flesh-eating monsters.

* * *

The girl sat, looking as if she were diligently going over some notes. However, her multiple doodles stated otherwise…

All her drawings ended up the same, though.

A certain American smiling radiantly.

Ever since she had granted that wish, she could not seem to get the boy out of her mind. He was the only thought that made her happy in her dull and mean world.

Suddenly, the notebook was torn from her hands.

"Aw, is the little girl drawing pictures of her boyfriend?"

Rigel stood in front of her, holding the book above her head jeeringly.

"Na, stop it, Rigel! That's mine!" She jumped up, attempting to reclaim her possession.

"Oh? Look at this!" He flipped to another page and took out a pen. He began writing something on it. Finally, he lowered it so she could see.

"Hey, girlie, y'know what this is?"

She squinted. "Ah, um… It looks like chemistry. Na, but I didn't learn that in school yet… So I can't help you with your homework…"

He snickered. "It ain't homework. It's a fact of life."

"Oh…" She tried recalling what she had learned in school. "Um… Is it the composition of certain atoms?"

He blinked, obviously not knowing what she was talking about. "Uh, no, stupid. It's what makes up a _real_ star and not fakes."

The girl glared at him and snatched back her book.

"You know, if you tell me you're a useless girl, I'll stop~"

She stomped her foot and turned around. "No! Na, you're so mean!"

Laughing, Rigel strolled away.

When she was sure he was gone, she starting weeping.

"Na… I wish Mommy would come back… No one ever makes fun of me when she visits…"

Mommy wasn't mean. Mommy didn't make fun of her. Mommy didn't think she was useless.

She turned back to her drawings.

Alfred didn't think she was useless either.

* * *

**ENGLAND'S MIND WORKS LIKE GOOGLE. **

**Little unnamed girl's mother is Haley's Comet. A comet, like a shooting star, is not an actual star. (Though, that might have been obvious to most of you.) It's more like a giant ice rock. Haley's comet is ****the only short period comet that can be seen from Earth twice in one lifetime, as it orbits Earth every 75 to 76 years. Stars are made up of hydrogen, helium, oxygen, carbon, nitrogen, silicon, magnesium, neon, iron, and sulfur. Shooting stars are, once again, rocks.**

**Ohoho~ **_**Someone **_**has developed a crush on Alfie~ Just kidding. She actually just kind of sees him like a big brother. SO MUCH CRYING. OTL I'm sorry this took a while… Oh yeah, I've named the plant Max :D Yes, Alfred did not eat or drink for a week. A normal human would have died, but he's a country. You see my reasoning?**

**And I watched Monsters Inc. for the 232****nd**** time (IT'S STILL GOOD) this weekend, and I think I put something with somewhat of a reference to something Mike says… Oh yeah! And I'm getting an America cosplay! It's going to be my first cosplay from Hetalia, so I'm gonna try and go all out. *fist pump* On Halloween, I usually sing Christmas carols, but this year I'm probably going to go around yelling, "IN AMERICA." … Yeah, I still trick-or-treat. Ya got a problem with getting free candy? =3=**

**I think this chapter is much better than the last... But then again, I dunno. I should probably edit this stuff before I post it =3= If you see any mistakes, grammatical errors, spelling errors, general storyline errors (i.e. blatant contradictions), etc., just let me know.**

**Hm... I wanted to make a dating sim... Would any of you actually play it if I made a Hetalia one?**

**LONG RANT IS LONG, I APOLOGIZE. I shut up now.**


	3. Power Struggle

**I AM PSYCHED. *fist pump* I know I just updated this, like, what… two or three days ago? But I am just too exuberant to contain myself! …No, not about the SAT. In fact, I think I failed it ;u; I mean, falling asleep for twenty minutes can put a serious hamper on your performance… But I'm only in tenth grade, so I don't have to start worrying until next year 8D My place for Valedictorian is already assured, anyway BD**

**NO. I AM EXCITED BECAUSE I AM SERIOUSLY PUMPED FOR THIS CHEM TEST TOMORROW. I've been studying for the past three hours, so I decided, "Hey, why not reward everyone for my short-lived excitement?" 8D …I promise I'm not egocentric OTL I only write for you people XD**

**Any points in this story that may be viewed as racist are not my personal views. They come from the basic Hetalia storyline.**

**I don't own anything.**

**EDIT: I got an 80 on that test OTL**

* * *

**Stargazing  
Chapter 3: Power Struggle**

"America! America! It's me England! It's me Arthur!"

Desperately shaking Alfred by his shoulders, England tried to dissuade the American, and perhaps himself, as well, that his memory was still intact. That it had not simply vanished.

Much to England's horror, America pushed him away and shook his hands, as if to get rid of the fact that he had touched the other man. "S-Stop it! Don't touch me!"

Tears began to fill Arthur's eyes, much the same way they had America's. This wasn't… It wasn't possible… America… His friend, no. His _son_. What could have possibly happened to cause this sudden amnesia?

This was not even ordinary amnesia. He didn't have any physical proof, but he did have the evidence the strange cosmic force that had informed him the previous day provided. He could feel it.

"Angleterre… What are we going to do?" France asked nervously, breaking the stunned silence. He couldn't bear to watch England tear himself apart about this.

"I…" He looked at America, one last time. "I don't know…" He didn't... He most likely had a spell that could reverse this, but he would need to know what had happened to Alfred, first. And that was near impossible, now. "This is how you found him, right, Canada?"

Matthew averted his eyes and nodded, biting his lip. "I don't think he even remembered Tony. He was boarded up in the kitchen, looking prepared to fight."

Arthur swallowed. He didn't even have the heart to go against America's theory of aliens at the moment.

"Hey, listen, all you whiners! The awesome me knows what to do!"

Out of seemingly nowhere, Prussia stepped arrogantly into the room.

"Bruder? I thought I told you to stay at home!" Germany exclaimed with annoyance.

"Ah, but that is so boring." He shook his head as if disappointed. "And West, I would have thought you would know that it is the older brother who makes the decisions, is it not?"

The younger didn't answer.

"Kesesese~! Now, where is that sorry excuse for an American?" He spun around to face Alfred who instantly paled and looked even more frightened than before. He grinned and began walking towards him. "I just couldn't help overhear your dilemma from my place in the vent and decided you needed help! And don't worry! The awesome me has dealt with this loads of times!"

He circled Alfred, studying him, much to the other's discomfort. He stopped in front of him and stared intently. "What is your name?"

Alfred blinked, eyes wide. "Ah… m-my name?

"Yes, yes, your name!"

He looked down and tried to think. His name? "Um… I-I… It's… I don't know…"

Prussia nodded seriously. "All right. Your name is Alfred F. Jones. Also known as America. You work for me in my awesome empire. Congratulations, you are part of Prussia," he said quickly and simply.

Alfred's eyes were filled with curiosity. "Really? An empire? I'm not too sure what that is, but it sounds kind of cool!"

The two were interrupted by Prussia's yell of pain.

"Ah! West? What the hell was that for?" Gilbert asked, rubbing his head.

Germany retracted his hand, but then reached out for Prussia's shirt collar. "Do not fill his head with stupid ideas."

As Ludwig pulled his brother away, Gilbert couldn't stop yelling. "Come on! It's for the good of Prussia! I could be the most damn awesome country ever, again! And empire! America's a superpower! He could totally make it work-"

Slamming his hand over the other's mouth, Germany hissed, loudly, "Shh! You idiot! Do you realise what you have most likely done?"

He couldn't think of what he had done wrong. He was just trying to make a new alliance that could bring him back to nation status! God, it would be so cool! Prussia, the world's former most badass country ever. America, the most powerful nation in… the… world…

Oh God… What _had_ he done?

How could he have been so stupid? He was too _awesome_ to be stupid!

Everything was still. It was just like one of those scenes from western movies before the battle where the tumbleweeds roll by.

America didn't understand. One second, he was part of some 'Prussia.' Now, he was just alone. Standing there. Sight darting to random places out of caution.

England had realised the full gravity of this situation. America… America was now like a sheep in a herd of wolves.

Wolves that wanted America to help their own selfish needs.

And America didn't have the memory to tell them to stop.

Somehow, Italy was the first one to take up the initiative.

"Ve~ America~ Hi! My name's Italy!" He shook the surprised American's hand quickly. "I was wondering if you want to be friends? I can be really weak sometimes, so it would really help if I had someone to protect me!" Finally! Maybe he wouldn't be weak anymore!

"Ah… Protect… you?" Alfred repeated slowly.

"Sí~! It would help a lot-"

Ludwig had grabbed Feliciano, too. "Italy…"

"Yo, Ita, what's up?" Prussia gave a two-fingered salute to the Italian. It seemed they were now both in the same situation.

"Ve~ I guess it was worth a shot…"

"Hey, América!" Spain almost literally skipped up to America. "Would you like to stay at my house? We have a lot of treats que son muy ricos~!"

Almost jumping, Alfred stared at the man. He seemed overly joyful. But he was speaking some weird language he didn't know...

" 'M-Muy ricos'? What does that mean?" It sounded good, at least, from the way the tanned man said it.

"Oh~! Your Spanish is very good! The accent is perfect! Have you considered-"

Romano took hold of Spain's shoulder, sending a death glare to the Spaniard.

"A-Actually, you know, on second thought…" Spain looked away, dejectedly.

"America originated in Korea, da ze!"

Korea attempted to grope America, only to be blocked by England.

"Bugger off!"

The other smirked. "England can't stop me that easily!"

America watched in awe as the entire room broke into chaos. Eventually, papers and chairs and other assorted objects were being aimed at others as projectiles.

And England couldn't think of anything but the danger that everyone was putting America in.

"America, over here!"

England grabbed what he thought to be America's hand and pulled him out of the room.

He would protect him. He would get America out of there. Out of the danger. To safety.

Running full force, England sprinted down the hall and ran outside, still holding the hand.

About ten minutes later, they had arrived at a park. Arthur breathed heavily and sat on a bench. He closed his eyes to relax himself.

"All right, you're safe for now at least, America."

. . .

. . . . .

. . . . . . .

"America?" The younger hadn't wandered off, had he?

"For the last time. I. AM. CANADA!"

Canada. Canada. Canada... Arthur's eyes shot open, and he immediately looked at the person next to him. That was America, wasn't it? No wait… America had a brother, didn't he?

"You're not America, then…"

"Mm, no."

"Oh."

Oh.

Arthur stared at the floor.

* * *

**EDIT: AN EIGHTY? I KNOW I WAS ABSENT FOR MOST OF THIS STUFF, BUT AN EIGHTY? GOD. I HATE MATH. Except Algebra. BECAUSE THAT'S ALGEBRAIC. I may edit this more, later. I think I made a sufficient attempt for now, at least =w=**


	4. Odd

**Stargazing  
Chapter 4: Odd**

The soft leaves, all shades of reds, oranges, and brown, blew briskly in the breeze, a mid-November, autumn scent hanging in the air. The air, cool and crisp, surrounded everything with an aura of happiness as children jumped merrily into the many colored leaves littering the ground.

This was not so for Arthur Kirkland and Matthew Williams.

_Why? Why? Even when Al loses his memory, completely different from me, I'm still mistaken for him!_

Quickly glancing at Matthew, Arthur sat down on a bench. "I'm too old for this…" He sighed. "I'm terribly sorry, Matthew." He really was; he never _meant_ to forget the difference between the two twins. Now, not only was Alfred alone in a room full of countries trying to use him, but Matthew was also in a state of slight depression over everything.

And Alfred…

Alfred!

"We need to go back, right away!"

Matthew stood up, nodding with determination. "All right."

They started heading back to the meeting building, running as fast as their legs could take them.

"B-But, England… How are we supposed to get Alfred's memory back?"

The other shrugged. "I really have no idea. We can probably just feed the git a burger, and he'll be back to normal."

Finally reaching the site, they entered and burst through the doors of the meeting.

Everyone was quieted, as it seemed they had still been arguing. Every face turned to Arthur.

And what greeted his eyes almost made him gasp in horror. Most of the countries were bruised and bleeding, most likely the result of fighting. Almost every chair was toppled over, and even a window was broken. But something that scared him the most were the pieces of clothing that looked exactly like the ones America had been wearing strewn around the floor.

_My God… They haven't… They didn't try…_

He was infuriated, to say the least.

"Where is America?"

No one answered. It almost seemed like… they didn't know. And-

Someone was missing.

"Where's Russia?" he whispered.

"Huh? England? What did you say?"

"Where's Russia? Where. The. Hell. Is. Russia."

Matthew's face turned white.

**

* * *

**

They were insane. They were all insane. That's what they were.

Alfred (at least, that's what the one guy with white hair had called him) sat, curled up and shivering, in a small closet. The second people had started trying to remove his clothes, he knew he had to get out. He went to his pocket to take out the remains of his dead companion, Matthew, but then remembered his pants were gone. As were his shirt and strange brown jacket.

He wanted to cry again. Why? Why was everyone being so mean to him today? And why didn't he remember anything?

The white haired guy had also called him "America." But that was a country, wasn't it?

He heard footsteps.

Oh no… Oh no, oh no, oh no…

This was bad. No, this was _really_ bad. He was cornered in a small space and easily noticeable. There weren't even any coats he could hide behind. And he felt… uncomfortable without his clothes on.

_Need a plan. Need a plan. Come on, I need a plan…_

_ Well, get on with it, genius. The door knob's turning._

In a last minute decision, before the door opened and he died, he lay his head against his knees and pretended to be asleep. He'd look too innocent to kill, then, right?

He heard the door open, his heartbeat speeding up.

Suddenly, he felt a large hand on his head. Oh God. Oh God. He was going to die. But he didn't even remember anyone to thank and say he loved them.

And then, without warning, he felt a heavy material being placed on top of him.

Here it was. They were going to strangle him, or suffocate him to death. Right now-

Was death supposed to feel like warmth?

A few seconds ago he'd been shivering, cold from having nothing to wear, but now, his entire body was warm. What was it?

Then, he felt himself being lifted by two strong arms. Was someone… saving him?

He cracked his eye open, immediately noticing the large man holding him. Violet eyes gazed back at him, tenderly.

"Privyet."

Feeling a little scared, again, he issued a soft "hello."

The light-haired man smiled. "You are much more adorable when you are quiet like this."

Alfred blinked. "A-Adorable?"

"Da."

He looked away, embarrassed. Yet, he didn't know why. Wasn't it a compliment? Right?

"T-Thanks… Um, could you put me down?"

"If you wish."

Gently placing Alfred on the floor, Ivan waited for the expected as the younger bolted out through the door as fast as he could.

He would give him a few minutes. Make him feel like he had the upper hand in the situation.

"Russia! There you are!"

Turning around to face the shorter Briton, he smiled. "Ah, England, what is it I can do for you today?"

England glared. "You know, full well, that America is in trouble, you bleeding wanker. Have you seen him?"

"Not at all. I have not seen him since the meeting."

"I see…" Arthur looked down, dejectedly. "If you do find him, please inform me."

Another smile. "I will do just that."

With one last look of disapproval, England twirled around to begin searching the rest of the building, again. Russia, himself, turned to beginning his own search for America.

"Oh, one more thing, Russia, what happened to your jacket?"

That damn England. He just did not know when to give up, did he?

Putting on an air of false benevolence, he turned to face the returned Englishman, currently glaring with more intensity and suspicion than before.

"Welcome back, England," he said cheerfully. "Unfortunately, it seems that you have forgotten your manners. A gentleman? Dare I say, you do not need to question me at every action? My concerns are none of yours."

That ought to quiet him.

England's eyes dropped, trying to not look into the Russian's eyes. "Ah, y-yes, I suppose so. It seems you were just going out for a walk. Carry on, and don't catch a cold."

He giggled. "Why thank you, England." Turning back to the door, he was glad he was Russia, one of the scariest countries on Earth. It came in handy, sometimes.

**

* * *

**

Who was that guy? He was… really nice? Why did he suddenly start running?

He didn't want to run…. He had wanted to stay there, all warm and snuggly, with the only person who had treated him nicely, so far.

As he looked around, he realised: He had no idea where he was. At all. All he knew was that there were a bunch of brightly colored trees everywhere.

Why? Why on earth did he start running? Was it just because he had started having a weird feeling on his face and chest? Now, he was somewhere he didn't know, wearing that man's jacket over no clothes, with no money, and asking himself a bazillion questions he didn't have answers to.

Such a great day.

"Alfred!"

His ears perked up at the call of his supposed name. Oh man… Someone was after him…

He squeezed his eyes shut. He may as well just get it over with.

"I-I'm right here."

He heard the soft crunching of leaves. Oh man… It was probably that mean, caterpillar-eyebrows guy, coming to yell and scream at him again.

"Oh Alfred! I was so worried about you!"

Wait… That wasn't Caterpillar-Brows's voice.

Slowly opening his eyes, he came face to face with the tall, light-haired man from before.

His previous tears of fear disappearing, he smiled and bounded over to the man, being careful not to trip on the too-large-for-him coat.

As Ivan neared the trembling American, he felt his ever-present question, beginning to form on the tip of his tongue. That idiot Prussian had reminded him that this was the perfect chance to take over America. One of the things he had always dreamed of- Was Alfred smiling?

"Hello, Mister!" he said, grinning brightly.

Ivan blinked and hesitated for a few moments. This was… unexpected. Usually, anyone would be squirming in fear by now, begging him not to hurt them. But here Alfred was, not the least bit afraid. He had actually _approached_ him.

"Y-Yes. Hello, Amerika."

The younger one paused, as if thinking about something.

"Mm… I'm not sure about too much right now… But ain't America a country?"

" 'But _isn't_ America a country?' "

A look of puzzlement entered the other's face. "Erm, yeah, didn't I just say that?"

Russia waved his hand. "Nyet."

"Nyet?"

"Da. Nyet."

"Dan yet?"

He couldn't help but start laughing. A warm, quiet laugh that made his cheeks flush with joy.

"Nyet. It means 'no' in Russian."

"And that's a country, too, right?" Alfred asked, gazing with curious eyes.

"Da."

"Then, going back… You said 'nyet' to my question…" He crossed his arms, in thought. "So does that mean America isn't a country?"

"No, no, no, it is. I was correcting your grammar when I repeated your question."

Alfred blinked and cocked his head. "Grammar? What's that?"

Sighing, Ivan gave up. Why was he having such a light-hearted conversation with a child he normally hated?

_Go on, Ivan. Just force the child to become one with Mother Russia. He will be grateful, later._

"Hey, Mister?" Alfred said.

_Become one with Mother Russia, yes. The rebuilding of one of the greatest unions on Earth._

"Um, I wanted to thank you for the jacket. It was really nice of you…" he looked down, timidly.

_ Starting with the annexation of Ameri- _Nice?

America said he was… nice?

What kind of ridiculous person would state such a ludicrous thing?

The boy standing in front of him. That's who.

Although… It struck some sort of a pang in Ivan's supposedly cold, unfeeling heart.

"Never mind that, Alfred. Come, let us get you back to England. He is most likely throwing down walls, looking for you."

This was the strangest thing of all. His own presence did not scare the American, but the slight mention of the Briton frightened him immensely.

"D-Do you mean, th-th-the guy with the g-giant eyebrows?"

"Da. However, if it makes you feel better, I shall accompany you."

The fear melted from his expression, replaced with relief. "Really? Thank you." He latched his arms around the man in a tight hug of gratitude.

One Ivan quickly pushed off. "Yes, yes. Now, come along, before things get too out of hand." Some passers-by were already staring at the two of them with weird looks.

**

* * *

**

He had to say: Walking with a personification of America with amnesia was similar to walking with a five-year-old who does not cease asking questions.

At every sign, Alfred had stopped to ask what language it was in and what it said.

At every sign, Ivan had stopped to say "Italian" and he did not know.

At every building, Alfred had stopped to ask what the place was and what it was selling.

At every building, Ivan had stopped to say "A restaurant" and he did not know.

At every corner, Alfred had stopped to ask what country they were in and where they were exactly.

At every corner, Ivan had stopped to say "Italy" and he did not know.

"Mister? Are you mad at me?"

"Why would you ask that?"

"I… I just thought you were mad're something…"

"I see… Well, I am not. Though, my name is Ivan."

"Oh… All right, then, Mister Ivan."

"You do not need… Never mind." That was enough, for now. Alfred didn't need to re-learn twenty things at once.

_Riiing. Riiing. Riiing._

Ringing… Wait… It couldn't be… Alfred's eyes darted over to Ivan's hand, taking out a miniature version of the item from that one morning.

"Privyet? Ah, England. How nice to hear from you. Oh? Forgetting manners, again, are we? Very well, I see-"

"Matthew!"

Ivan froze, turning back to Alfred and covering the phone. "What? Your brother is here?"

"Matthew! You fixed him!"

Ivan watched as Alfred literally began jumping with jubilee.

"Fixed him? Alfred, where is your brother?"

"Right there! Gosh! Mister Ivan! I can't believe it! Thank you! Thank you so much!"

Very strange… He looked around, but it seemed as if the boy was pointing to his cell phone. Which he could now hear incessant yelling, loud enough to break the sound barrier of his fingers. Keeping an eye of Alfred, he resumed the conversation.

"Yes. Yes, I found him. I am bringing him back, right now. Oh England, please do not use obscenities. It is unsightly. Thank you, and good bye~"

He shut the phone and returned to Alfred. "Now, what is it you are pointing to?"

Barely able to contain his joy, Alfred put his finger directly onto the object.

"My phone?"

"Nonono! This is Matthew, right? You fixed him for me? I guess you couldn't put him back in his original body, though, 'cause he was all broken and stuff…"

Ivan raised an eyebrow. "And why, may I ask, is its name Matthew?"

Alfred grinned. "Well, it all started a this one morning. I woke up, after a few days, I think, of not remembering anything, and then this weird thing in my house started ringing, and then it was talking to me! It said its name was Matthew."

_Now, it somewhat makes sense. Matvey must have called him. I suppose he does not remember what a phone is, either._

"Mister Ivan? Can I have him? Please? Please?"

"Er… I do not believe this is Matthew. I fixed Matthew, but he is not here, at the moment. This is his brother… Peter." Noticing Alfred was attempting to take the phone, anyway, he retracted his hand. "Ah, sorry, Alfred. Peter is asleep, right now."

"Ohhh." Alfred nodded. "_I understand_," he whispered, putting a finger in front of his lips to symbolise he was going to be quiet.

He smiled. "We are almost there, so hurry up."

"All right, all right."

The rest of the way there was peaceful. The autumn breeze carrying on, propelling the leaves into a rainbow of warm colors and the steady sound of Alfred trotting beside him made for a serene moment comparable to a scene in a movie.

Twelve minutes later, the roaring of England disrupted everything.

"Where were you? Where was he? Why the bloody hell is he wearing your coat? Do you know how much time has gone by since I called you? Did you do anything to him?"

Even though, they had asked him to wait outside, so as not to hear their conversation, Alfred could hear it perfectly clear. And he was severely angry. Puffing out his cheeks, he crossed his arms and kicked his legs. Ohhh, that Caterpillar-Brows was gonna get it.

He jumped off the bench and slammed open the doors in front of him.

The few people left in the room looked at him, and it wasn't many, considering that most of the others had probably already gone home.

"America-san, please return outside. You should not be hearing this."

"Look, I already know that America is a country. I'm not _that_ stupid," Alfred said, rolling his eyes.

"B-But America-san, please listen-"

"Ame- Alfred, listen to me."

He turned to Caterpillar-Brows who had, apparently, decided to lower his voice, now.

"I know that you do not remember anything, and I apologise for before, but what did Ru- Ivan do to you?"

What did he do to him?

Let's see…

As Arthur watched Alfred think about the previous events, he knew he had Russia cornered. The taller man denied doing anything to the helpless American, save for offering his coat. Of course, he didn't believe him.

"It's quite all right, Alfred. You can tell us how he hurt you."

That was most likely the point where he snapped.

"Hurt me? You're the only one who ever hurt me in any way, Caterpillar-Brows! You and Invisible Man, over there."

Caterpillar-Brows?

Alfred pushed the other man out of the way to stand in front of Ivan. "You're not going to hurt him like you did to me. Mister Ivan is my friend and I'm going to protect him." He stuck out his arms, as if shielding him.

He felt his eyes widen. Friend? Ivan looked down at Alfred. He had called him his… friend. No one ever did that before.

Feeling Ivan's gaze on him, Alfred turned his head and grinned. "Don't you worry, Mister Ivan. I've got this covered."

Almost feeling his voice disappear, Ivan managed to say, "I _have _this covered."

Alfred snapped his fingers. "Oh yeah, more of that 'grammar' stuff, right?"

Ivan nodded, stiffly.

Glaring, Arthur took a step towards Alfred. "Now, Alfred, come off it. Stop being a bother, and allow us to finish our discussion."

Alfred glared back. "No."

"Alfred, you're being rude."

"So?"

"Alfred, go to your room!" Arthur stopped, abruptly. What… did he just say? Seeing the other's look of disgust, he quickly shook his head. "N-No, I didn't mean that-"

"Shut up. You're not my father."

"A-Alfred-san."

The boy turned his head to the black haired man, standing next to him, hands placed politely at his sides.

"Who are you?" he snapped.

"Ah, um, m-my name is Kiku, and I am one of your friends."

"Really? Is this true?" He turned his head to Ivan to gain his approval, who, in turn, nodded again.

"Da. It is true. Kiku, is it possible for him to stay at your house for a few days?"

"Hai."

"Wait, what? I want to stay here! You can't make me go! Nuh-uh! No way!"

"Alfred, please just go."

After a few minutes, Alfred finally huffed out in frustration. "Fine."

"Come on, Alfred-san. We have to get to the airport."

"Yeah, yeah…"

Japan looked back at the room, worriedly. Ivan looked bewildered. Arthur looked like he was holding back tears. And everyone else looked utterly baffled. No one could speak, for they did not know, at all, what to say.

He bit his lip in nervousness. "Alfred-san? Would you like to get a, um, hamburger before we leave?"

Alfred turned his head and blinked at Kiku. "A hamburger? What's that?"

**

* * *

**

"_Little girl, too short and skinny. Never ever eats her dinny_."

"_Ugly girl, her hair's a mess. Never ever cleans her dress_."

"I do too clean my dress!" She stomped her foot on the ground.

Rigel pushed her to the ground, causing dirt to stick to the bottom of her clothes. "Now you don't."

She felt tears well in her eyes, but she wouldn't let them go. She would never let them go, again. She hated Rigel. And she wasn't going to let him feel any satisfaction from her crying.

Turning around, she walked away, her shoulders stiff, to show her pride.

Walked all the way to Uncle Sirius.

"Hello, child. What seems to be the matter?" The young man crossed over to her, his various dogs watching, as if something was going to attack him.

"N-Nothin'."

"Now, now. Would you care for some tea?"

"Na, thank you very much, Uncle Sirius."

"Not a problem," he said, fetching the kettle from the stove.

"Uncle Sirius?" she asked, watching him pour the tea into two pristine cups of fine china.

"Hm?"

"When is Mommy coming back?"

"Not for a while."

"Can I move in with you?"

He chuckled. "I'm afraid not." Handing her a saucer, he placed the teacup on top of it. "What brings this up?"

"T-There's people being mean to me…"

"Mhmm."

"And they keep calling me names. And telling me I'm useless."

He smiled. "Is it Rigel?"

"N-No…" After being subjected to his stare for a minute she looked down. "Yes."

Sighing, he looked to a corner of the room. "Not much I can help you with there. I could threaten him, but as soon as I walk away, he'll be at it, again. I never did much like that boy. Always going on about himself." He looked back to return himself to the topic on hand. "Anyway, you're not useless. Far from it, actually."

She stayed quiet, instead choosing to stare at his shirt.

Uncle Sirius was a young man, looking about 29 years old. His hair was smooth, long, dark, and pulled together into a ponytail that often resided on his shoulders. He usually wore a grey vest with a diamond pattern throughout. His pants matched, and then he wore a white dress shirt under the vest. Again, he was young, but one of the wisest out of all of them.

"I heard you recently granted your first wish."

She sat up straight and nodded rapidly. "Yes, yes, yes. His name is Alfred F. Jones. He's a very nice boy. And I think he's been around almost as long as I have."

"Mhmm."

"His wish seemed really small, I think. Oh, and he's a personification! Like us!"

"Mhmm." He nodded. Yes, yes. A personification. Good for her! He was happy- A personification?

"You granted a personification's wish?"

She smiled. "Uh-huh!"

Don't panic… Don't panic… It won't cause a global dilemma or anything…

He forced a smile. "My, that's wonderful! Yet, you know, many good wishing stars, after they grant their first wish, check up on their 'customers' to make sure everything is okay, seeing as how they have so much stored energy from not using it until then that they use most of it on the person to grant the wish."

"Ohh."

She stood up. "Na, I'm one of those good wishing stars! So I'm gonna do that!"

"Wonderful, wonderful." After giving her a tight hug, he watched her run out of the house. He went to sit back down and lifted the cup to his mouth.

"Oh dear. The tea's gone cold."

The girl, on the other hand, looked out into deep space, finally locating Earth. All right. She was… going to meet Alfred F. Jones. She couldn't help but tremble with excitement.

**

* * *

**

** All right where to start…?**

** Ricardo: Someone got their first boyfriend~ ;D**

** Arielle: Someone is about to get stabbed 37 times in the chest~ :D**

** Ricardo: Someone is giving the disclaimer~ :D Arielle doesn't own Hetalia.**

** Arielle: Oh yeah! Guess who's gonna be driving soon~!**

** Ricardo: God help us all.**

** Arielle: *glares* Anyway, so here's information on "Sirius, the Dog Star." **

http : / earthsky . org / brightest-stars / sirius-the-brightest-star

** Just take out the spaces. Sorry, I've been feeling really sick, lately… My doctor said I have at least two different infections, and my therapist said I might be moving into depression. *rolls eyes* Always something wrong, ain't there? I've missed at least five giant tests OTL**

** So here's a chapter that's at least twice as long as the last…**

** Oh, and also, if I haven't replied to anything lately, it's because I've been really busy… I usually do comment on peoples' reviews and messages people send me…**

** Erm, anything else? Yes, I know it's out of character. But would you be the same exact person if you lost your memory? HM?**

** Er… Well, most everything seems to be in order. If I think of anything else, I'll put it later. **

** Thank you for reading, and if you notice any mistakes, whatsoever, please tell me ;u; Also, if you have any ideas, that's also useful.**

** GOSH DARN IT. P.S. I feel so horrible for doing this to poor Iggy OTL BUT HE IS REDEEMED. … SOMETIME WITHIN THE NEXT FEW CHAPTERS. **

** P.S.S. I made a Facebook account for this fanfiction account (I FEEL LIKE A NERD.) But mi hermano suggested that I should get one, so that I don't always end up leaving giant notes like these explaining everything. I dunno… It'll just have updates on what's goin' on. I'll put a link on my profile or something…**

** Happy Chanukah to those who celebrate it! ;u;**


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